


it's the calm before another storm

by musicspeakstoo



Series: boy you was battle born [11]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 23:23:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9263336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicspeakstoo/pseuds/musicspeakstoo
Summary: Jason's pretty proud when Tim comes home hungover, even though he's also pretty worried.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone! I promise I didn't forget this 'verse, it's just been frustrating to write. Which brings me to my next point, which is that fics in this verse will no longer be written in chronological order. I'll still organize them that way, but trying to write it that way was too stressful and this way I can put in more fun stuff that's not necessarily taking place during any specific moment. Like, this fic. It takes place after War Games but before Identity Crisis, but other than that there's no specific period this is set in. 
> 
> Also, there's a brief mention of TimKon but I didn't think it warranted a tag, but I'm giving everyone a heads up, just because. As usual, this is unbeta'd (and written late at night) so all mistakes are mine. Title is from the Killers' "Where The White Boys Dance," a song I will definitely use for a title again, just because I get a kick out of it. Happy reading!

Jason walks by Bruce’s study on his way to the kitchen, pausing when he hears Bruce’s raised voice and the disappointment in it. Last he’d checked, Dick was still in New York, he’s only just walked into the house, and Bruce never yells at Cass, so the only other target of his disapproval is Tim. Jason winces, but continues on. Tim’s a big boy, he can handle Bruce on his own. Besides, the kid’s spent the whole weekend in San Francisco with the Titans, he can’t have fucked anything up that badly yet.

Still, when he gets to the kitchen and plops down on a stool, the first thing he says is, “Hiya, Alf. What’d Tim do to get B so pissy?”

Alfred eyes his jacket with disapproval, which Jason doesn’t get. He’s sure he got all of the mud and blood off of it.

“Hello, Master Jason. I do wish you would hang up your coat, or at least refrain from throwing it across the nearest surface.”

Jason sighs heavily, but does fold his coat and put it on the seat next to him. Alfred nods in approval and says, “And to answer your query, Master Timothy returned from California early this afternoon, but later than he was supposed to, rather hungover.”

Jason’s about to try and sneak some of the baked ziti Alfred’s making but freezes mid-snatch when he hears that. His eyebrows shoot up and he looks at Alfred incredulously, “Are you fucking kidding me? _That’s_ what B’s mad about? Does he not remember how many times I’d stumbled home from a party in my later Robin years?”

Alfred looks like he’s going to try and scold Jason for his language before he just sighs and puts the kettle on, then says, “Yes, Master Jason, but that was _you_. Tim has been…” 

“A goody-goody?” Jason supplies helpfully.

Alfred gives him a sharp look, “He has been rather _restrained_ when it comes to typical teenage rebellion and this is the first time it has directly interfered with his duties.”

Jason shakes his head. This poor fucking kid, honestly. Jason had hoped that being such a rebel would mean that Tim would have more wiggle room but because Bruce is Bruce, he’s harder on Tim to _avoid_ him becoming like Jason. He still makes a face whenever he learns that they’ve been hanging out.

“‘S not fair. Tim’s a good kid, he deserves to be a little rebellious now and then. I think out of all of us, Tim’s earned the most right to blow off some steam.”

Alfred made a humming noncommittal noise, which really meant that he agreed with Jason but didn’t want to get involved. He pours a cup of tea for Jason and he thanks Alfred absentmindedly, thinking. The thing is, Jason’s kind of all Tim’s got right now. Bruce is Bruce, Dick is very aggressively not here, Tim is weird about Cass, Babs has her own shit going on right now, and Steph is… well. Point is, _somebody’s_ gotta make sure that between trying to please Bruce and be the perfect son for his dad, Tim doesn’t forget that he’s only sixteen.

Part of Jason is bitter; _he’d_ spent a good chunk of being sixteen in the hospital and then nothing but physical therapy and feeling sorry for himself. Fortunately for Tim, Jason’s aware that this particular bitterness doesn’t help anyone and he’s working on not letting it choke him. He won’t succeed entirely, but so far it’s enough that he can scrap his original lunch plans in light of this new situation. It’s not entirely selfless, however. Jason is probably the last person Bruce wants around Tim right now, so Jason’s gonna be the asshole that he is and stay put.

Sure enough, the yelling dies down and after a few minutes of silence in which Bruce likely benches Tim for a few nights and also says something that’s a low blow, B can never resist kicking one of them when they’re down. Bruce comes out just as Jason’s finishing up the last of the tea and the scowl on his face makes Jason smirk in response. It’s reflexive at this point. Bruce grunts in lieu of a greeting and then disappears, most likely heading for the Cave.

Tim comes into the kitchen a couple minutes later and Jason swears that every time he thinks this kid can’t get any smaller, Tim manages to shrink in on himself some more. It doesn’t help that he looks like shit. He’s paler than normal, sick pale, and kinda shaky, which confirms Jason’s theory that this is the first time the kid’s gotten drunk enough to puke. It’s especially unsettling when combined with the might-as-well-be-permanent bags under the kid’s eyes. Tim looks miserable in a way Jason bets has nothing to do with his physical state. This, really, is why Jason’s still here. Tim will spend every night he’s benched working himself to the bone and if Jason can fend that off for at least a little bit, then he’s good.

Tim registers his presence with a tired sigh and a piss poor attempt at a smile. Jason decides that he’s not gonna let him get a word in, pushes his teacup away and turns toward him.

“C’mon kiddo, go get your coat and shoes on,” he says in his best “take no shit” voice.

Tim frowns, “Why?”

“I’m taking you out to lunch, babybird, now go and get your coat and shoes on.”

“Why?”

Jason sighs and thinks of all the things he could say, just to get Tim to shut up and come along. And then he thinks of all the things he _wants_ to say, raw and truthful things that are more likely to make Tim clam up and go distant.

He settles for, “Because I know how fucking awful B’s lectures are when you’re hungover and I’m feeling charitable today.”

It’s kind of a lame answer, but it’s the kind of gruffness Jason knows is a tell — he’s clinging to not becoming the kid’s big brother with everything he’s got and Tim’s been pretty good about letting him. This is one of those times, as Tim just nods and goes to get his stuff instead of trying to press for more. At least for now.

“Master Timothy is not patrolling tonight, so he must be back at his father’s at a somewhat reasonable hour,” Alfred says.

That’s Alfred subtly telling him that he’s not allowed to drag Tim to his place and let him patrol anyway. Which, okay, Jason had been considering. But only sort of. Jason gives Alfred a salute, then picks up his jacket and meets Tim by the front door. Tim’s quiet on the drive to their diner and he’s quiet when they get there, only greeting the waitress with a small smile. Jason lets him be until they order, and Tim speaks for the first time since they left the Manor.

With Dick or Roy, Jason would let them stew, but the past has shown him that it’s a terrible strategy to take with Tim. Tim gets himself worked up over stuff Jason wouldn’t even give a second thought to and Jason’s sure his dad should take the brunt of the blame, but Jason’s already fucked up any chance of he and Tim having a civilized conversation about that. Sitting in silence also gives Tim the time to collect himself and Jason would rather have the real Tim, a rare sight nowadays. 

“Did you take anything recently? For the hangover, I mean,” he asks.

Tim shoots him an annoyed look, “Of course I have. And I’ve had a Gatorade and a ton of water too.”

He’s such a fucking brat, but it’s the most teenager-ish he’s been in months so it doesn’t really piss Jason off. It’s not like he minds a little attitude in the first place. Still, appearances must be kept up and Jason’s playing reluctant not-brother today.

“Hey, kid,” he snaps, “I don’t have to be here. There’s a very hot guy who just started working at the deli down the street from me and I could easily be there, getting his number.”

Tim ducks his head and fiddles with the salt and pepper shakers. Fuck.

Jason’s about to apologize when Tim asks, “So why are you here? And don’t give me another half-assed answer.”

He kind of regrets encouraging the kid to swear more.

He shrugs, “I was already at the Manor in the first place. Besides, you know how much I hate when B’s harder on you because of me.”

It’s true, and there’s been a lot of yelling by Jason at various people about it that Tim accepts it. Which is good, because he knows what Tim’s reaction would have been if Jason had been forced to admit that he’s worried about Tim. Even so, Tim gives him a “I know you’re not telling me all of it but since I’m feeling like shit I’ll drop it” look. It’s one that Jason inadvertently taught him.

Their food comes and Jason tucks into his omelette, gleefully adding some hot sauce. Nothing like a hangover to justify eating breakfast at three in the afternoon, even if Jason doesn’t really need the excuse and that the hangover isn’t his. Tim’s putting ketchup on his burger and making a pool of it for his fries, and there’s an extra plate, which hopefully means he’s going to share some with Jason.

Jason swallows his bite and asks, “So can I ask what prompted this little act of normal teenagerdom?”

Tim chews thoughtfully and then when he’s done sinks back against the booth and says, “I didn’t mean to. It’s just that Kon knows who I am now, who I really am, and the Titans kind of know who I am and Bart’s been trying to get us all to party together for awhile and I just figured…”

“What the hell?” Jason supplies. 

Tim smiles, “Something like that. I just,” he sighs, “I know that drinking to forget your problems is stupid but with everything that’s happened I wanted, for just a bit, to be a regular stupid teenager.”

Jason opens his mouth to agree but Tim’s on a roll so he steamrolls over him, “And I know that I’m not a regular stupid teenager, but for a few weeks I was and I was too busy being completely miserable to do stuff like that. Dick’s always telling me I should do that stuff more, and so are you, and I felt that maybe it was time to take your advice. But as much as I like my civilian friends I just don’t trust them the way I do the others. And I needed to trust them, in order to do what I did, y’know?”

Jason knows. Any sort of vulnerability is dangerous in their line of work, but Tim tends to take that to the extreme. It’s something Dick was better at working on than Jason is, as Jason also tends to play things close to the vest. It’s what he learned as a kid on the streets and now that he’s thinking about it, Tim may have learned it there too. He may not have had to do the things Jason did, but the kid spent an awful amount of time chasing Batman and Robin around even the most dangerous parts of Gotham, enough to build up instincts wholly separate from what you learn as Robin.

“Kid,” is what he says, “I’m not B and I’m not Alfred, stupid choices that aren’t made in the field don’t require a defense or an explanation.”

Tim blinks, “Oh. yeah. I forgot.”

They eat for a bit before Jason says, deliberately casual, “You know, it’s okay that you miss her.”

Tim’s face twists and Jason hopes he doesn’t start yelling. Or crying. Or that he doesn’t shut down.

“She didn’t abandon you, you know,” he continues, “It’s just that experiencing that much pain causes a person to reevaluate some things — believe me, I’d know — and she just needs time and space.”

Tim doesn’t say anything for a bit, just stares at his hands. His voice is a little shaky as he says, “I know.”

“She’ll come back.”

Tim looks up at him, eyes huge in a way Jason absently wonders if he knows is a tell, “You think so?”

Jason shrugs, “I did.”

Tim considers this, then nods. A heavy silence descends upon them and Jason’s suddenly unsure if this was a good thing to bring up in a public setting.

“Kon tried to kiss me at the party,” Tim says suddenly.

“You’re kidding,” Jason says incredulously. 

“Nope,” Tim says, smiling a little, “Turns out that the Kryptonian genes do not apply to alcohol consumption. He’s as human as the rest of us in that regard.”

Jason laughs, “Way to go, babybird. Can I ask though, what caused him to try and kiss you? And are you really that upset about it?”

Tim puts his fries on a separate plate and then pushes it toward Jason. Jason happily takes one, dipping it into a puddle of hot sauce on his plate.

Once he’s done chewing, Tim says, “I may have drunkenly come out to the team, and I think Kon, who was also drunk, was weirdly trying to say that he’s okay with it. I mean, he’s not exactly straight himself, so. It kind of makes sense. And no, I’m not upset about it, it’s just weird. I mean, Steph may be taking some time off and we may have agreed to take a break but that doesn’t mean I want one of my best friends to kiss me at a party.”

Jason shrugs and nods, “Makes sense.”

Tim grins at him mischievously, “‘Cause it’s not like I’m you or anything.”

Jason rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, “Hey, I love a good drunken make out session among friends as much as the next person and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Now Tim’s the one rolling his eyes.

“Can we talk about something else besides somewhat unfortunate encounters with friends of the same gender?” Tim pleads

Jason snorts, “Y’know, between you, me, and Dickiebird, I’m starting to think we should make a gay Robins club or something.”

Tim points at him, “You leave Dick out of this.”

At Jason’s look of surprise, he grins and adds, “He’ll have to figure that one out on his own.”

Jason throws a fry at him and feels like the best not-quite-brother ever when Tim laughs for the first time all day.


End file.
